Straight To The Head
by Made Nightwing
Summary: After proving that he's the biggest badass in the universe, Commander Jack Shepard starts...enjoying, his position. And The Evil Illusive Man is once again thinking up an evil scheme to bring his evil plans to  evil fruition. Evilly.
1. Chapter 1

Straight to the Head

A crack fic, inspired, by a fic I read back in 2006.

I don't own Bioware.

Commander Shepard for this story is Jack Shepard, basically Jack Sparrow in space. Liara is LI, but with a heavy bromance with Joker, Kaidan, Garrus and Jacob.

ILLUSIVE MAN'S HEADQUARTERS

SOMWHERE VERY EVIL AND SINISTER

THE IMPERIAL MARCH IS ALWAYS PLAYING TO REMIND THE EMPLOYEES JUST HOW EVIL THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BE.

The Illusive Man was deep in conversation with his inner circle. Unfortunately, since Miranda Lawson, his last, best, right hand woman had flipped him off and left Cerberus, and he himself had ordered Paul Grayson to be turned into a Reaper slave, his inner circle consisted of several none too bright field operatives. The smartest among them was undoubtedly Kai Leng, but he was also incapacitated, in hospital for months of painful physical therapy while his legs recovered from being kneecapped by Admiral Anderson.

"Alright!" he yelled, silencing the debate about the best ways to get revenge on Lawson. "Jack Shepard thought he could betray me, he thought he could betray Cerberus. Well, I've got news for you gentlemen, I won't allow it. I have a plan!"

Cheers and thunderous applause erupted from his eager followers as they sat cross legged on the floor around him.

"SILENCE!" he smoothed his hair back, gaining control of his frustration. Well, when you had to recruit men and women absolutely loyal to humanity, you had to be prepared to make a few concessions regarding intelligence. "Now, with Kai Leng in hospital, Miranda Lawson…"

"BOO!" A bull necked female operative screamed. "Down with Lawson!"

"Yes, yes I know," TIM patted her on the head. "But as I said, with all my best planners, strategists and soldiers either abandoning me, killed by Shepard, the Shadow Broker or any of the other mercenary or government organizations that ruthlessly serve the alien agenda, I have come up with my own plan!"

More cheers and applause, they launched into a bad rendition of 'For He's a Jolly Good Fellow.'

"I shall," he paused for mass dramatic, evil effect. "Plant an infiltrator on Shepard's crew!"

Dead silence. "But boss?" one spoke up. "None of us are infiltrators. You already said that the guys best suited to infiltrating have already been killed, kidnapped or mind controlled."

"I know you idiot," TIM facepalmed. "That's why I'm doing this myself!"

A chorus of 'oh's' and 'ah's' floated from the assembled operatives. "But boss? How are you going to get on board? Sure Shepard knows you by sight?"

"Ah, but I've already covered that," Illusive Man stood up and turned away from them, he fumbled with something. "Allow me to introduce you to…" he turned back around, now wearing a gigantic, drooping, false mustache and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. "…Millusive Tam! Badass aging mercenary!"

Dead silence. "He's with the Alliance! GET HIM! What you done with the Illusive Man!" Outraged cries came from the operatives as they sprang to their feet, charging towards him, pulling out a selection of barbaric, cruel weaponry. (Did I mention that these guys were really evil?)

"No you idiots! It's me!" Illusive Man whipped the disguises off. Another chorus of 'oh's' and 'ah's', one of the operatives wasn't even paying attention. He was simply playing with his teddy bear (But a really evil, twisted, teddy bear)

"But boss?" Another operative piped up. "Commander Shepard is in full command of the Normandy now. All those resources, including an AI, you wouldn't stand a chance."

"You don't know Shepard like I do," The Illusive Man replied scornfully. "And I know, if he wanted to, he could order the entire crew to fellate him, and they'd just get in line on the cargo deck. We can all give thanks that he's the type of modest man who would never let power go to his head."

**MEANWHILE, IN THE CAPTAIN'S QUARTERS, NORMANDY SR-2**

"You wanted to see me Commander," Ken Donnelly whistled appreciatively as he surveyed Shepard's quarters. He'd never been up here before, not because the Commander was a snob, heavens no. Commander Shepard was the kindest, fairest, most noble man Ken had ever met. The Commander had proven that by the sheer badassness he had demonstrated during the assault on the Collector Base, bringing everyone, including the crew, back home to the Normandy. The Commander remained as delightful and charming as ever.

"Ah yes Chief," Jack patted Ken on the shoulder. "Why don't' you take a seat, pour yourself a drink."

"Yes sir, wait…isn't this the brandy that Doctor Chakwas bought a week ago?" Ken was surprised; the doctor usually didn't let anyone near her private reserves.

"Yes, she gave it to me as a gift for saving her life from the Collectors," Shepard shrugged modestly. "She was quite insistent."

"Well…thanks sir," Ken cheerfully gulped down a glass. A small favor, but a sign that maybe the affection the crew, and the galaxy in general, was showing Commander Shepard, was beginning to erode his natural modesty. 'Nah,' Ken thought. 'It's Shepard, would never happen with this guy'. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well Ken, it's about the bulkheads…"

"Ah hell, now what," Ken slammed down the cup. "If Jack and Miranda were having another one of their 'I'm more of a psychotic biotic bitch than you are' contests, I'll…"

"It's not that Ken," Shepard clasped his arms behind his back. "It's just that they're dirty."

Donnelly blinked. "Dirty…"

"Filthy," Shepard confirmed. "Inexcusably so. As a matter of fact, so is every part of this ship. Everything stained with dust, dirt, grime and grease. From the cockpit to the hangar bay, even the Hammerhead and Kodiak are covered in it."

"Oh," Ken replied, his voice slightly strangulated.

"And the crew aren't much better," Shepard shook his head in sorrow. "You see Ken, every part and member of this ship combines to form an image. That image has to be good. If some parts of that image contrast with each other-like for instance, a dirty ship under the command of a brilliant, death defying, physics busting, Collector destroying, Reaper crushing Commander-well, people might get confused. We don't want people confused, do we Crew Chief?"

"Ah…no, we don't want confusion sir," Donnelly replied, despite currently suffering from that very same ailment.

"I want it all cleaned," Shepard announced. "Every single part of this ship. The vehicles as well. Every deck, from under Joker's seat to the inside of the Thanix Cannon barrel. I want everything spotless. The crew too, everyone will undergo full barracks inspection from Lieutenant Taylor and Officer Vakarian each morning. Anyone whose uniform, armor, weapons and bunk aren't made and cleaned to specifications will be assigned to various duties, such as teaching Jack table manners, conversing with Legion about the nature of the mortal soul, and serving as a test subject for Mordin's more harmless projects."

"What about the members of the crew who don't…uh…"

"Everyone means everyone," Jack Shepard looked surprised at Donnelly's question. "Samara, Kasumi, Zaeed, Jack, anyone who thinks this is a pleasure boat is in for a rude surprise Chief. I want everyone and everything to look their best and perform at their best. So that they'll be worthy of this ship. And its commander. Do you understand Ken?"

"I'll…tell my people to get right on it," Ken suddenly wished for another drink and a competent psychiatrist. Well, surely the diploma from the University of Paris that rested on Kelly's wall meant something. Maybe…

"Oh no Chief, your people aren't touching my ship." Shepard shook his head. "I want only the best cleaning the Normandy. That's you Ken," he pointed at Donnelly, whose heart was currently sinking. "You're the best. You're the only one who gets to clean the ship and vehicles. Apart from me, obviously, and Tali. But you're the only one I trust to really clean everything."

"Commander, I don't think…well…permission to speak freely sir?"

"By all means Ken," Shepard made an inviting gesture. "No doubt you want to thank me once again for kicking the asses of both the Collectors and the laws of physics, and in doing so saving you, your future wife Gabby, whom you were previously too insecure to ask out, and your future child who shall have your eyes, and preferably your wife's face, from being turned into grey paste and pumped into the body of a giant Human Reaper. That **is** what you want to say, isn't it Ken?"

Ken hung his head. Even sanity was powerless in the face of overwhelming badassery. "Aye sir."

"Ah, you're welcome Ken. Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes?" Donnelly's body went rigid. Surely it couldn't get much worse…

"Like I said nothing but the best touches my ship. That means none of your greasy engineer's rags. Only pure, Thessian, silk."

"I…Where would I…?"

"There are exactly two Thessian silk handkerchiefs in the entire length and breadth of the Terminus Systems," Shepard held up a small square of silk. "I use this to clean my Claymore. No one lays a hand on it but me." The Vanguard held up an even smaller square of silk. "I was planning to use this one to polish my boots, but nowadays I can Tali or Kelly to do that with their tongues. Sometimes I make them fight each other for the privilege. It plays havoc with Tali's immune system though. So you take this," he tossed the silk to Ken, "And you just scrub your little heart out on my ship until it's as beautiful as its commander. The handkerchief will probably get dirty eventually, so wash it as many times as you need to. And step to it, Liara will be arriving in a few days."

"Thank you sir," Very carefully, trying to hold back tears, the engineer pocketed the silk. "Will there be anything else?"

"Well… now that you mention it, I have been a little bored…" The Commander's eyes narrowed. "Dance." Ken's eyes widened, and Shepard nodded. "You heard me. Dance. Sing, too. Something uplifting. Now dance!"

Down the elevator shaft, the crew of the Normandy went about their daily business. Through the doors on various decks, a voice could be heard belting out "Land of my high endeavour, Land of the shining river, Land of my heart forever, Scotland the Brave!" while another voice cried "Excellent! Keep it up! C'mon, put your legs into it! Dance! Dance!" If any of the crew heard this, they gave no sign.

**BACK IN THE ILLUSIVE MAN'S EVIL ****LAIR**

"Ah boss," one of the more shy operatives raised his hand.

"Yes Billy," The Illusive Man smiled benevolently. Normally he didn't' allow his operatives to question him at all, but he was feeling the need to monologue. Around Shepard, he usually had to keep the evil thoughts floating around his brain, for fear of what the Commander would do if he found his true (very evil) plans for the future.

"Well sir, I don't claim to be very smart," his fellow operatives slapped him on the back and comforted him. "I mean, I washed out of the Alliance because I was too dumb to be a infantryman, a cook or a cleaner. But what makes you think Shepard wants another crew member, even a badass aging mercenary?"

"Well, you see," The Illusive Man chuckled (evilly). "Millusive Tam is also a freelance reporter, who can tell Shepard's story to the world at large. He won't be able to resist the opportunity to have me."

**TWO DAYS LATER**

**NORMANDY SR2 AIRLOCK**

**IL****IUM**

Exquisite moustache in place, Millusive Tam stepped up to Miranda Lawson. It had been a long three hours wading through the line of potential recruits for Shepard's team. All of the other pimply faced teenagers, wannabe asari Commandos, and a weeping blonde guy called Conrad Verner, had been turned away. Not him though, he had the perfect plan.

"OK, next," Miranda wanted to go back inside, go into the shower and not come out again. Of all Shephard's brilliant schemes and plans to recruit new ground team members, this was the one he had settled on. Posting an advertisement on the extranet and waiting for the results. "OK, Millusive Tam, your resume says you're a badass aging mercenary whose also a freelance reporter. Name one significant battle you've served in and one important news article you've authored."

"Ahhh…well," TIM began sweating furiously. "I was the Sole Survivor of Akuze. And I wrote an article called, ' Why Humans and Aliens Should All Get Along."

For a second, Miranda stared at him, her blue eyes seeming to pierce through his flesh. For a second he almost hyperventilated. Could she tell it was him? She had worked for him all those years, she had to know.

Actually Miranda was simply flashing back to a conversation with Shepard two days ago.

**TWO DAYS AGO**

"You know what would be really cool," Jack Shepard bounced a basketball up and down and sent it flying into the hoop he had had Garrus and Jacob put up in the cargo bay. "If we could recruit a badass aging mercenary."

"We already have one," Miranda pointed out as she used her biotics to retrieve the ball. A small part of her pride rebelled against using her powers to fetch and carry for Shepard, but then again, he was so badass, she couldn't say no. "Zaeed is still onboard."

"Two are better than one," Shepard replied sagely. "And besides, what if the badass aging mercenary was a Lone Wolf/Sole Survivor, and was also a reporter who loved aliens."

"Tell you what," Miranda handed him the ball. "If one turns up, I'll hire him on the spot."

**PRESENT**

"You're hired," Miranda turned on a heel and beckoned him to follow her.

'Must…restrain…maniacal…laughter' The Illusive Man allowed himself a proud smile underneath his magnificent (Yet strangely evil) mustache. Suddenly Shepard's voice echoed over the internal comms system.

=Attention all hands, this is the Commander. Drop your pants," Shepard paused. "That is all." The speakers fell silent again amidst the sound of flies unzipping.

"What the hell?" The Illusive Man said above the _whump _of thirty pairs of pants falling to floor all over the ship. It's probably just as well that Lieutenant Taylor wasn't around, or Illusive Man would have wound up with a broken jaw.

"Oh, the Commander does stuff like that nowadays," Matthews explained as he kicked off his pants, revealing what the Illusive Man assumed were standard issue undergarments aboard the Normandy. "At first he refused all the favours and stuff people were offering him for getting us off of the Collector Base, then he started accepting a few, then he started calling them in himself, and now… Hey, why are your pants still on?"

Illusive Man was about to explain to the LADAR operator in no uncertain terms exactly why his pants weren't going anywhere. But then he realised, that if not for Shepard, the Collectors would still be abducting human colonies and making the way clear for the Reapers. And taking into account how he jumped the Normandy through the Omega 4-Relay, then shot down the Collector Ship in two shots, and admittedly, destroying the base was just so freaking bad ass…

The Man watched with horror, unable to resist, as his hands began creeping to the zipper of their own accord.

"That's better," Matthews said approvingly. Miranda finished disengaging her own pants, then retrieved a set of boxers she had learned to keep stored in an emergency locker in the cockpit. She frowned as she stared at Millusive Tam's underwear.

"Why do your boxers say 'Too Illusive For You!" she enquired suspiciously.

"Ah…they were a gift from the…Anti-Cerberus League," The Illusive Man proclaimed triumphantly.

The part of Miranda that was always alert, always suspicious, always ready to bring the pain, screamed at her to look at the obvious. However, that part couldn't fight its way past the sleep and food deprived part of her brain. She shrugged and continued toward the elevator.

The Illusive Man was well and truly on board.

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A/N: Some crack a day keeps the trolls away.

Read, review, rate. Or don't, go outside and enjoy the sunlight (or fresh night air). Live every moment like it's your last, because it'll never come again.


	2. Infilltrators Gonna Infilltrate

Straight To The Head

Chapter Two: Infiltrators Gonna Infiltrate.

I don't own Bioware, but I do own a really neat pair of sunglasses. High Five anyone?

NORMANDY SR-2

CURRENTLY DOCKED AT ILIUM

A few hours later, a haggard, borderline-despairing 'Millusive Tam' stumbled through the halls of the Normandy. Before this particular scheme, Illusive Man had lived most of his life by some basic, sternly adhered-to principles: "Redheads are hot", "Aussies are hot", and "Matriarch's are even hotter". "Anybody powerful who was not put there by The Illusive Man is someone worth overthrowing", "Speak eloquently and carry a long assassination list," "Hanging out with Charles Saracino will make you look better by comparison, no matter what you do," and, last but not least, "You can never have too much dirt on anyone." Interviewing the crew of the Normandy had placed Illusive Man's faith in the latter principle in serious jeopardy. There were things, shadowy, terrifying, and unbound by sense or reason, which man was simply Not Meant to Know.

Take Ken Donnelly for instance. The engineer had kindly taken a break from cleaning the Kodiak, the Hammerhead and the rest of the cargo deck with a single white handkerchief, to have a few words with the 'new recruit', who was smart enough not to ask about his thankless task.

"I mean, what Kelly does with Legion in her spare time is none of my business, alright? I know that," Ken had said. "It's just that they keep requisitioning _my_ tools and _my _equipment for 'maintenance', and just between you and me? I'm willing to bet that the only things those two are doing work on are each other. And don't ask me how it works, don't ask me for any details, don't ask me what the _fuck_ anyone could be doing with an electrospanner that doesn't involve electrospanning… when I'm alone with Gabby, we do things the old-fashioned way, okay? But I know, man, I know. I mean- I'm the one who has to clean those things off when they return them the next morning, y'know, and let's just say they aren't covered with machine oil." Donnelly had paused and grimaced. "Well, actually they are, among other things, but it's not any sort of oil that I've ever- oh, Lordy. You know what? Forget it. Just… forget it. Talking about it just makes it worse." And with that, Ken had gone back to weeping quietly as he scrubbed the port thruster of the Mako.

After that, Illusive Man hadn't gotten any journalism done for a while, what with the half hour of straight vomiting, praying, and crying which had followed. But, after getting himself together and making a mental note to throw every single tool in his headquarters out the airlock so that he might actually have a chance at sleeping again sometime during his life, and then planning to destroy the geth so that there'd be none left for Kelly to 'experiment' with. Illusive Man forged ahead, consoling himself with the knowledge that all great revolutionaries must endure some hardship, or, in this case, psychological trauma.

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The next one on Illusive Man's list was a man simply known as : Crewman Heavily Armed and Armoured Cerberus Marine Who Looks Completely Badass In The Few Seconds That You See Him Guarding Legion In The AI Core, But Then Never See Again After You Wake Legion Up. As this was a somewhat complicated name, it had been shortened to: Crewman HAACMWLCBITFSTYSHGLITAIC, BTNSAAYWLU. As this was also rather complicated, he preferred everyone to just call him Hack.

"Oh yeah," Hack shook 'Millusive Tam's' hand with a cheerful smile. "Yeah, I'm not on the ground team, which is a pity. I'm fully trained soldier and the second most powerful human biotic of all time. I was orphaned by a slaver raid when I was two, a passing Quarian scoutship picked me up and took me back to the fleet. They taught me how to utilise and repair combat drones, and how to be a hacker. As a parting gift when I returned to humanity, they gave me an omni tool that can destroy a Scion in a single incineration blast."

"You're that good?" Illusive Man was surprised. He hadn't really paid much attention to the dossier's the Normandy's regular crew. As long as their file said 'Competent', 'Barely Competent', or 'Scotsman who thinks it's perfectly normal for a beautiful woman to follow him round from posting to posting', he had ticked the box and sent them aboard the Normandy.

"Are you kidding?" Hack stood up. "My Adrenaline Rush, Biotic Charge, and Infiltrator Reflexes are so enhanced, I could go plant a love note in Samara's quarters and be back before you could…" he suddenly blurred, then reappeared. "…tell I was gone," he finished proudly. "I can fire my Revenant and Claymore at the same time, one in each hand. I also hold the Galactic Record for Longest Distance Sniper Kill, which I made with my Widow. Using my Cloaking Device, I was able to sneak into a Batarian slaver base and snap the neck of every guard in there. On Eden Prime and Lazarus Station, I was able to survive because I invented a new kind of Tech Armour that can't be broken."

"Wait a minute, if you can do all that, how come the Normandy's crew was kidnapped by the Collectors? If you're actually the only security guard on board, and you're as good as you say, why didn't you stop them?"

"Ah, well," Hack blushed furiously. "I'm also kind of shy. I spend most of my time down here in Engineering, with my Cloak activated, trying to get up enough nerve to ask Tali for her extranet number. Also, my hearing's not too good. The first thing I knew about the Collector's boarding was when Joker rushed in here and activated the FTL drive. And after that…I just didn't have the guts to reveal myself. So I just waited until all the crew were back onboard."

"So what is it you do on the Normandy?" Illusive Man was beginning to hope maybe he could recruit this guy back into Cerberus. This guy was better than Shepard, better than the whole crew, why had he let him go?

"Ah, I suppose my job description is security guard," Hack looked thoughtful. "So I really don't have much to do. I was going to guard the Krogan who came in the tank, but Shepard woke him up before I got there. I guarded Legion really well when he was unconscious. I tell right here, right now, if we ever get another unconscious geth aboard, I am going to guard the shit out of it. Oh and Officer Lawson asked me to guard Jack, but called me off when she and Jack started dating."

"Wait a minute," Illusive Man could hardly believe his ears. "Subject Zero and my trusted…I mean, XO Lawson, are sleeping together?"

"Oh yeah man," Hack nodded enthusiastically as he brought up his omni-tool. "I've totally got footage if you want it. It's so totally hot."

The Illusive Man tried to protest but Hack had already pressed play. Illusive Man considered himself a connoisseur (playboy was too coarse). But even he was rendered speechless by the images on the screen.

"Who's a fucking Cerberus Bitch?"

There was a pleasured squeal.

"Oh I am, oh yeah, right there. Oh don't stop Mistress! OH CRIKEY!"

"SHUT IT OFF, SHUT IT OFF!" The Illusive Man screamed as he activated his overload. Hack's omni-tool went dark.

"Well, Jacob, Tali and Samara all wanted copies," Hack shrugged nonchalantly. "Even Doctor Solus requested I send the tape up to him, for science."

Illusive Man staggered away, clutching his head, trying to erase the images of his trusted operative and confidant, bent backwards over her own desk, doing something unspeakable…his brain was beginning to collapse, he banged his head against the wall a few times. The pain made him feel a little better.

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The rest of 'Millusive Tam's' interviews had followed a similar pattern of covering Things Illusive Man Did Not Want to Know. In fact, just a single conversation with Kelly Chambers had given Illusive Man all the dirt he could possibly handle. He could never release any of it, for the sake of his own sanity and that of the Galaxy at large. Illusive Man was evil and sadistic, but not that heartless.

"I mean," Kelly sounded grouchy. "I thought Commander Shepard and I were really getting somewhere. He was giving all the right responses when I flirted with him. But it turns out he was carrying a torch for that Liara chick all the time. When he talked to me, it was just because he felt I could use some company. He's so kind and noble the way he thinks," she began pulling at the collar of her jumpsuit. "It gets me so hot just thinking about it…"

"Yes, yes," Illusive Man interrupted. "You have my sympathy. But there are plenty of people aboard this ship, why don't' you hook up with one of them?"

"Well I would, but everyone's already paired up," Kelly pouted. "And none of them are open for a threesome. They're all a bunch of closet minded prigs."

"I heard a few people were together, but what about Jacob?"

"He's stealing pleasure with Kasumi."

"Mordin?"

"Doing Samara, for science."

"Joker?"

"Calculating with EDI, and even I have no clue how they do it."

"Garrus?"

"Testing out Crewman Goldstein's flexibility."

"Thane?"

"I brought the subject up, and he broke down into tears. Something about 'Irikah', 'warrior angel' and 'your wait for me will end soon'."

"Chakwas?"

"Curing Zaeed of erectile dysfunction."

"Tali?"

"Long distance relationship with Kal'Reegar."

"Grunt?"

"Are you kidding me?" Kelly looked horrified. "He's underage; I could get arrested for that. I'm already Number One on C-Sec's list of sexual predators. How was I supposed to know that that asari was underage, she was forty years old for crying out loud."

"So you're stuck with Legion."

"Yes," Kelly shuddered. "Look, it's not a perfect arrangement. But it works. He gets his research done, and I don't cry myself to sleep with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a picture of Shepard."

Illusive Man slowly shuffled off, more mental images pouring through his skull. Kelly prattled on, not even noticing his departure.

"What I need is someone strong, handsome, kind, preferably biotic, who treats women with respect, and very, very available," she sighed longingly. "But where am I going to find one of those?"

Somebody to her right cleared his throat. She looked up to find herself staring into a pair of dark brown eyes, containing an exotic blend of seriousness and passion. The eyes were attached to a head that could have been sculpted by Michelangelo, the head attached to a body that would not have been out of place on a Greek statue.

"Excuse me, I'm Staff Commander Alenko," he smiled bashfully. "I'm here to sign on."

"Welcome aboard," Kelly felt her heart fluttering.

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As if the multiple forms of mental and emotional trauma weren't enough, Commander Shepard had never seen fit to rescind his order on the PA. So for the past few hours, Illusive Man had been shuffling around the cold corridors of _the Normandy _and trying to carry out interviews with obvious lunatics while in his underpants, with each and every other person he encountered in a similar sorry state, going about their daily duties with their pants completely absent. The Illusive Man could have gone the rest of his life without learning how many members of the _Normandy_ crew favoured thongs.

All in all, he thought, the only way this ship could be more screwed up is if half the people I just interviewed turned out to be Reaper agents. But of course, that would just be completely ridiculous. Still, it was worth looking into, maybe worth just dumping a bomb in engineering and be done with it. His time on the Normandy had convinced Illusive Man that slogging through heart to heart chats with every freakshow on the frigate was not a viable strategy for anything but a permanent mental breakdown.

Come to think of it, some time in a mental facility might not be so bad. Nice relaxing atmosphere, plenty of doctors who could…

"Wait a minute," he snapped his fingers. "Doctor Solus, of course. He'd have access to all the crew's medical records. I'll just find out who's on what illegal drug, has which incurable disease/ and or infertility. Then I'll threaten to expose Shepard to the public unless he returns to Cerberus! It's brilliant I say, brilliant, Genius, BRILLIANT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

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"Who's that?" Garrus jerked his thumb in the direction of the human laughing maniacally on the other side of the mess hall.

"New guy," Jacob replied off hand as he sipped his coffee. "Probably a bit overwhelmed by it all."

"True, it's very sad, some people can't handle it," Garrus agreed. "Thanks for lending me the underwear by the way."

"It was my pleasure," Jacob assured him. "What was left of my innocence may have been permanently lost when Shepard's order came through, but I'll be damned if I'll let anyone else suffer the same fate."

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A/N: You hear that sound? It's the sound of me managing to simultaneously offend every shipper on fanfiction dot net. If I destroyed your innocence, I apologise, but if you were looking to keep it, you shouldn't have taken to the interwebz.

Somebody else has to be curious as to what happened to the competent, badass looking guard who was in the AI Core, he had to have come and gone somewhere. He was the only member of Cerberus on board who was wearing full armour. Maybe if he'd been around, the crew wouldn't have been kidnapped. But Bioware decided to keep him hidden, out of sight, out of mind. WELL I STILL NOTICED!

Oh and my university application interview went well, should start by Bachelor of Liberal Arts in about a month. Which means I'll have to work like blazes to get this and Five Rounds finished and get started on For the Uniform, For the Cause, before Semester starts.

Love you all.


	3. Clear and Present Dangerto Sanity

Straight to the Head

Chapter Three: Clear and Present Danger...to Sanity.

I don't own Bioware, Battlefield: Bad Company, Tom Clancy or any of the other few dozen pop culture references I am about to shamelessly rip off.

NOS ASTRA

LOWER REGIONS, NEAR THE BOTTOM

LOL, THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID

Zaeed Massani traversed his rifle from left to right, scanning for any target that dared cross his path. He gave a nod to Garrus. The burly turian lifted his Incisor to his shoulder and advanced down the alley. This part of Ilium was dark, cold and lifeless. Some of the buildings had been torched, holes blown in their sides, evidence of gang activity in the area. He shook his head and began running after Garrus. This place had a dark fell to it, he could almost hear the ghosts of the dead, singing their haunting songs…

"_All around me are familiar faces…__Worn out places, worn out faces. Bright and early for the daily races. Going nowhere, going nowhere."_

Grey fog entwined and embraced them. A backstreet cat hissed at them as they passed. The streets stank of death, ambushes might await around every corner. Zaeed could have sworn he saw the shapes and shadows of people laughing and running, once peaceful and content in this place. No longer.

"_Their tears are filling up their glasses. No expression, no expression. Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow. No tomorrow, No tomorrow."_

Garrus held up a gloved fist. There might be something ahead. The turian faded into the shadows, scouting out ahead for their prey. Zaeed crouched by a broken pillar, glad of the few seconds to catch his breath. He heard footsteps, slowly pattering behind him.

"_And I think it's kinda funny, I think it's kinda sad. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had…"_

"Oh shut up, Shut Up, SHUT UP!" Zaeed roared as Kasumi de-cloaked behind him. "You've been singing that song for half a fucking hour woman! What does that even mean? 'The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had?'"

"Well…it's like a dream, and he's mourning that his dreams are better than…" the perky thief trailed off, she looked a bit awkward. "Well, OK, I don't really know what it means, but it still sounds terrific. I stole the original guitar Gary Jules played that song on."

"See that's the problem with you kids," Zaeed paused to light up a cigar. "You've got no appreciation for music. A bunch of crappy artists try to cram a lot of meaning into words that don't make sense. Now back in my day, the music stated what it was. Now for take for instance…"

He cleared his throat, and began in a beautiful deep bass voice. _"Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast, this is La Vie En Rose!"_

Kasumi joined in. _"When you kiss me, heaven sighs. And though I close my eyes, I see La Vie En Rose."_

Garrus to Zaeed!= the sound of a sniper rifle barking in the distance alerted them to trouble. =I've found the slippery bastard=

They charged toward the gunfire. Their quarry had eluded their grasp more times than they cared to count, after having escaped his captivity on the Normandy. There was no way he'd elude them this time.

Zaeed peered through the smoke. "Garrus mate? You got the little bastard? Shepard said we either get him, or don't come back alive."

"I got the rascal," Garrus called cheerfully as he strode through the smoke. "Some cats were getting rather vicious back there. I think he's glad to be going home, aren't you little guy?"

His fist unclenched to reveal a shaking space hamster curled up in his palm. Mr. Sniffles, Shepard's prized pet, had made a bold strike for freedom and had succeeded. Driven half mad with worry, Shepard had dispatched his three most experienced trackers to find his pet. Just in time as well.

"Aww, did the mean cats scare you?" Kasumi cooed as she took the shivering ball of fur. "I didn't know you were so good at this Garrus."

"Well, I rescuing children's pets on Omega," the badass ex-vigilante explained. "One of the merc groups was composed entirely of guys who didn't have anything to do after their Pet Finders business ran out of customers."

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NORMANDY SR-2

SCIENCE LABORATORY

Illusive man smiled his most charming smile at Mordin. "Doctor, could I speak with you alone for a moment?"

Mordin frowned at him, then nodded. "Ah yes, understand you are the new crewmember. Come, must give you your physical. Would recommend removal of hideous abomination on your face."

The Illusive Man lifted his hand to his moustache. Why that impudent…he forced his temper back under control. This guy had just joined the Council on Illusive Man's list of 'Guy's who will be first up against the wall when the Revolution comes'. "Never mind my moustache."

Mordin started to say something, doubtless cutting and moustache-related, but this time it was Illusive Man who interrupted him. "Doctor Solus, can we be honest with each other?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Of course, aware that I repress too much, might be good to open up."

Illusive Man smiled good-naturedly as he inwardly retained a death-grip on what little remained of his patience. "Indeed. Look, I see that you're busy, Doctor, so I'm just going to tell you what I want so you can give it to me, and then I'll be on my way. Does that work for you, Doctor?" Just the faintest hint of patronization crept into the head of Cerberus's voice.

Solus eyed him suspiciously, and not just because it had been a long, long time since anyone had been stupid enough to patronize Doctor Solus. The last Blue Suns who had tried had suffered an unfortunately lethal outbreak of headshots. "Depends on what you want."

"The confidential medical records of the senior members of the whole Normandy crew."

Mordin blinked several times as he processed this. _Mercenary wants medical records, why? Research? No, not in his dossier. Curiosity in medicine? No, soldier, not doctor. Blackmail? Possibly, must investigate hypothesis._

"I assure you there's a vitally important reason for it, but unfortunately it's very, very confidential," Illusive Man said in the most gravitas-loaded tone he could muster, which, considering that it was The Illusive Freaking Man talking, was a hell of a lot of gravitas. "Important ship's business, you see. I'm sure you'll understand."

Mordin nodded contemplatively, straightened his white coat, and cleared his throat. He didn't get many opportunities to tell mercenaries where to shove it (although the last job he had held provided him ample opportunities to simply kill them), and wanted to make this count.

"Mr. Tam, could tell Yeoman Chambers was infected with scale itch simply by uncomfortable way she walked. Had concocted cure for said infection by end of the day. By studying how many boxes of tissues went into Operative Lawson's quarters, and were recycled drenched in tears, became aware of her infertility. Currently working on cure, should take no more than a week. Have healed nearly all the crew of various ailments, including the Commander. Would have definitely been made aware had important medical records been requested. To use human expression, 'What kind of chump do you take me for?'"

The Illusive Man smiled again, a bit more toothily this time. He'd hoped it would come to this. "Let me put it this way, Doctor," he said smoothly. "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'physician, heal thyself?"

"All the time, usually immediately before attempts of violence upon my person."

"I see. And what about the phrase, 'physician, heal thyself from a point-blank gunshot wound to the head delivered when you least expect it?' Is that one familiar?"

"Have not heard before this date," Mordin admitted.

"Yeah, there's a reason for that, Doctor." Another smile. "Do we understand each other?"

"Am starting to understand that you are the type of person that makes me desire to break my Hippocratic Oath…..well, more than I usually do." Mordin looked long and hard at the Illusive Man. "Hmm, human male well past his sixtieth year since birth. Have been experiencing any back or neck pain, stiffness?"

Illusive Man was taken aback by the apparent non-sequitur. "Um… well, I'm not as young as I used to be, and there are the occasional cricks, but…"

"Perfectly good enough for me. Happen to be fully licensed chiropractor, and am prescribing an immediate spinal readjustment." Mordin cracked his knuckles. "May feel a small amount of pain, followed by incredibly large amount of pain and temporary inability to pull any more 'crap' with me."

"Don't even think abo-" Illusive Man's words were cut off as Mordin's three fingered hands suddenly seized him by the back of the neck and _pulled_. Illusive Man gasped as his felt his spinal cord pop and stretch, none too pleasantly. Trying to strike back, Illusive Man spun around and reached for Mordin's neck, trying to catch him in his patented, worlds-famous Shanxi Soul Strangler. But before his hands could achieve a suitably trachea-crushing purchase, Mordin's hands found a vertebrae in the small of his back and pushed it inwards as though it was a button. A very, very painful button.

Suddenly, couldn't move. His limbs were stiff and every inch of his body tingled, courtesy of Mordin's ministrations upon one of the more sensitive nerve clusters. But he was not numb enough to be spared pain and agony as the Doctor turned him back around and began to do things to his spine and nervous system which Illusive Man would have previously thought impossible. Pinned helplessly, the Head of Cerberus could do nothing but open his mouth and begin to scream.

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CAPTAIN'S QUARTERS

Meanwhile, Shepard listened intently to Yeoman Chambers on the phone. Beneath him, Liara sat patiently as she waited to resume their meeting, which, so far, had been like all their other meetings: an excruciatingly awkward attempt to conduct the business associated with the survival of the galaxy once the Reaper's arrived, without any kind of hot and heavy activity intervening. Like all their other meetings, the second part of this attempt had been a complete failure, hence their half clothed state and Shepard's barely contained frustration as he conversed with the Yeoman, not even dreaming of telling her to shut up and let him have some quality time with his girlfriend. Shepard was too much of a gentleman to interrupt a lady.

"I understand, Yeoman. Evacuate the laboratory, tell no one to interfere and keep me informed. Shepard out." He closed the comm line and sighed as he kissed Liara's fringe.

"Trouble?" Liara asked.

"My ship's scientist appears to be beating the living hell out our new recruit. Apparently they don't work well together. May have to ask the chap to leave."

"Hmm."

"Yeah."

"Jack, do you ever worry that you pretty much let the Doctor do whatever he wants?"

Liara smiled as he kissed her. Shepard hated it when she smiled. It was the kind of smile that made it impossible for him to be badass. In fact, sometimes when she smiled that smile the Commander got a sudden, inconceivable urge to give up his entire career, never again take up arms to fight evil in the galaxy, and spend the rest of his life doing things to the Shadow Broker that her clients would probably rather not know about.

"Mm-hrrm." Shepard nodded, taking a sip from his previously untasted drink on the bedside table. "I can't muster a lot of emotion on the new guy's behalf. He should have known better than to pick a fight with Mordin."

He scowled suddenly, and re-activated the comm link =Yeoman Chambers? If I remember correctly, I wanted this Scotch _neat=_ Faintly, Liara could hear frantic excuses, pleading, and then sobbing coming over the comm line, followed by the sound of a blade being drawn. "No Chamber's, there's no need to commit Seppuku. We'll discuss this later Yeoman, during my foot rub." Shepard said. "Now then, where were we?"

Liara cleared her throat. "Actually, Commander, this reminds me. Specialist Gabriela came to see me today about her partner's workload."

"Really?" Shepard frowned. "I didn't know Gabby was enough of a big shot to get an appointment with the Shadow Broker."

"She was… insistent." And her copy of the _Kama Sutra _was most adequate payment for this task. "Apparently, as a favour to you, Chief Donnelly is currently cleaning the entire Normandy with a single handkerchief."

"Yes he is. Doing a good job too," Shepard nodded with approval. "If Gabby gives you any trouble, I could always ask her to be your maid for a while; she wouldn't be able to say no."

"Jack…" Liara said softly. She crawled on top of him; he felt her breath on his skin. "I know that there is almost no one in the Galaxy who has worked harder to ensure the survival of life as we know it than you. I know that every one of us owes you his or her life at least once or twice over. I know that you're one hell of an Commander, and that flying the Normandy through the Omega 4 Relay, blowing up the Collector Base, then helping me kill the Shadow Broker, was, quite simply, awesome. And I know well that you're fully entitled to indulge yourself a little and expect some gratitude from everyone as a result of all this."

"But…" she continued as she took Shepard's hands, which were notably sweaty at this point, "One of the reasons I've always admired you is your selflessness, and your absolute responsibility… how you never, ever flinch at all the stuff that gets put on your shoulders, and never ask for any reward." And then she smiled.

Shepard knew resistance was futile against that smile. He let go of her hands- reluctantly- and opened the comm line again.

"Yeoman Chambers?"

"Yes sir?"

"Cancel my foot rub."

"Yes sir."

"Cancel filming on _Pimp My CIC_ and_ Pimp my Cabin, _as well as _Pimp my Log Book, Pimp my Armoury, Pimp my Private Terminal and Pimp my Hammerhead."_

"Yes sir."

"Remove the chandelier from CIC."

"Certainly, sir.

"Return all suits, alcohol, furniture, and bling to their respective owners."

"Right away, sir."

"Tell Officer Lawson that she is no longer required to wrestle that crocodile I ordered from Earth."

"She will be most glad to hear that sir."

"And dispose of the…exotic herbal collection," Jack spoke this one with the most regret. Liara seemed disappointed as well.

"Finally, tell Chief Donnelly to take the rest of the day off."

"Very good sir." Chamber's paused. "Um… will there be anything else sir?"

"Hrm? Oh, yeah. Tell everyone they can put their pants back on."

"Thank you, sir," said Kelly, whose legs had been getting rather chilly.

"That'll be all, Yeoman."

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ILLUSIVE MAN'S HEADQUARTERS

SERIOUSLY, WHAT DO YOU NOT GET?

THIS IS A FUCKING EVIL PLACE

ACCOUNTING HAD TO DIVER FUNDS FROM THE LAZARUS PROJECT TO HIRE MORE DESIGNERS TO FIGURE OUT MORE WAYS TO MAKE THIS PLACE MORE EVIL. THERE'S A JUMBATRON ON THE SIDE SIMPLY FLASHING 'MURDER, DEATH, DESTRUCTION, EVIL, PSYCHOTIC EXPERIMENT'S AND HOT AUSSIE CHICKS.'

The Illusive Man awoke slowly and painfully. Every single part of his body was in exquisite agony- except for his spine, which felt younger than it had in years.

The last thing he remembered was Mordin talking, no doubt saying something witty and triumphant, while turning Illusive Man's spine into a pretzel. Apparently somebody from Cerberus had been kind enough to pick him up and take him back to base.

Illusive Man hadn't gotten to where he was today by being stupid. He had nothing to show for his clever planning and fashionable moustache except major physical trauma and a bunch of dirty secrets too unspeakable for him to even contemplate. Clearly it was time to give the whole thing up and focus on more important things.

Despite his body's strongly expressed wishes to not get up, nor, in fact, to do any sort of movement ever again, Illusive Man got up. He went into his main office. All of his inner circle were waiting for him, all eager to hear the results of his mission. Even Kai Leng was there, both legs wrapped in casts, but still grinning happily at the sight of his boss.

The Illusive Man stood straight, cleared his throat and spoke. "FUCK SHEPARD AND HIS WHOLE FUCKING CREW! THEY CAN GO DO THEIR OWN FUKING THING, I DON'T FUCKING CARE! IT'S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME TILL THEY BLOW THEMSELVES UP, OR PERISH IN A HAIL OF STD'S! EVERY OFFICER OF CERBERUS IS HEREBY ORDERED TO STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE NORMANDY. I'M NOT LOSING ANYMORE OPERATIVES TO THOSE PSYCHOTIC, SEX LOVING, ALIEN BANGING FREAKS!"

Having vented, Illusive Man began limping toward the invisible side door in the massive, cavernous, (monstrously expensive and very menacing) room. He wanted to go and see Trellani, maybe she could make his spine (and ego) feel better.

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MEANWHILE ON THE NORMANDY

Unaware of the Illusive Man's rage, the brave, noble crew of the Normandy cruised through space. Up in the Captain's Cabin, Mr. Sniffles had been returned to his cage, the fish had received their food about two minutes before they were about to die of starvation. And all over the ship, the various nymphomaniacs were retreating to their hidey holes with their companions.

All was well once more.

And they still had ten months till Mass Effect 3 came out and they'd have to get back to work.

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A/N: Away with dull angst and tragedy. We need to be cramming in as many smut fics as possible before ME3 removes many of our favourite characters from existence.


End file.
